The Ambassador

After many exhausting hours of walking, the dirt road had eventually led to a wider, asphalt road. Savanna had taken a left and followed it, coming to a stop when she reached a bridge. It was undoubtedly the bridge that led to town, but what made Savanna hesitate was the bleakness of the surrounding area. Off to the right were several pinboards with military propaganda posters and other miscellaneous papers pinned for all to see. Most of the posters were secured tightly to their pinboards, but those that weren't were flapping in the wind.

Savanna shivered in her light rain poncho. Cold and dehydrated from the long journey, Savanna reached into her satchel and drew out the metal canteen given to her by Rose. The metal loop at the top near the mouth of the canteen clattered about as Savanna removed the stopper and sipped the water within.

Most of the wanted posters on the pinboards were requesting the capture of ponies Savanna didn't recognize, but one depicted a sketch of Maverick, and another depicted Rose. She frowned, lowering her canteen and reaching up, brushing a hoof against one of the posters. She wanted to believe that Rose was a good pony, but, at the same time, she knew Rose was battling an evil inside of herself—in fact, everypony seemed to be. Ponies like Rose were hopelessly lost to anger or fear without guidance, while ponies like Amethyst felt trapped, unable to make a difference or change things for the better. Savanna understood how Amethyst felt—she was living it. She had tried her best to convince Rose to consider her situation and make an effort to change for the better, but Rose—in her ignorance—had ignored her plea.

Savanna didn't linger and ruminate for long. She aimed the stopper toward the mouth of her canteen, then gave it a hard strike with a hoof to jam it into the neck and seal the canteen. She stepped onto the metal bridge, trotting forward and looking out over the edge. The wind was blowing particularly strongly. Despite there being a tall railing separating Savanna from the edge, she kept her distance, fearful. She knew that, below, the ground curved sharply downwards into a deep ravine, one that would absolutely be fatal if she fell into.

Past the bridge's railing, twin waterfalls were flowing downwards in the distance, crashing into a basin of rocks far below. One waterfall was far wider than the other. The twin waterfalls, however, reflected the evening sunlight in an equally-gorgeous way. Platinum falls, Savanna recognized the landmark as.

She drew her camera from her satchel and snapped a photograph, stuffing it into her satchel with all the others.

Queensland wasn't far past the bridge. The first sight that greeted Savanna when she entered town was a big metal statue of a changeling queen striking a dramatic pose, her papery wings spread, gnarled horn at the ready. Her facial expression was indiscernible. Impressed by the craftsmanship of the piece, Savanna slowed her trot as she circled the statue, examining it from a different angle. There were no signs or carvings detailing who the changeling queen was or why her significance was so great as to warrant building a statue to depict her.

Savanna quickly looked around and checked her immediate vicinity for ponies who may be watching her. Spotting nopony who may be spying on her, Savanna drew her camera from her satchel and snapped a photo of the statue before continuing on her way.

Military propaganda was everywhere in the town. Posters were attached to pinboards, walls of buildings and streetlamps as they blew noiselessly in the breeze. The fact that the citizens of Queensland hadn't attempted to tear down any of the propaganda suggested that rebel presence in town was minimal. Suddenly feeling paranoid and unsafe, Savanna watched all around her, looking for ponies who may be spying on her as she passed through town.

While she hadn't seen any ponies yet, she knew she would soon. Not wanting to make the same mistake as before when she was spotted by the CED officers in Cerise, Savanna unclipped her revolver from the carabiner attached to her satchel's strap and stored the gun in her bag, concealing it from view. Savanna theorized that, if she were spotted without a weapon, she may appear inconspicuous enough to avoid attracting attention.

It would be inefficient for Savanna to knock randomly on the doors of various houses of citizens living in town as she looked for the undercover rebel, Cloverleaf. She needed to find a public space where a lot of ponies were gathered so she could look for him. She was too young to be entering any bars, so restaurants would be the next best bet.

Savanna kept in the street, close to the sidewalk but not quite walking on it. Turning a corner around a house, Savanna realized she was approaching the center of town. Groups of ponies were traveling to and from destinations or resting on benches, most wearing light coats to protect against the mildly-chilly weather. A lone pony leaned against a streetlamp, smoking a cigarette. Savanna swept her eyes over the small groups of ponies. So far, she spotted nopony who resembled Cloverleaf's description.

Pairs of CED officers were stationed on the sidewalk at periodic intervals, observing the citizens and watching for any signs of trouble. The general vibe of Queensland made Savanna uncomfortable. CED were everywhere, and they were watching her every move. If she slipped up and made even the slightest mistake, there would be no possibility of escape.

As she passed close by a pair of officers, Savanna kept her eyes low to the ground, not meeting their piercing eye contact. Regardless of how intimidated she felt, she hadn't appeared suspicious to them. Her plan had worked.

Despite her terror, Savanna also felt a twinge of anger. CED had almost killed her—almost killed Rose. And here they were, standing smug and ostentatiously in their stiff, nickel-grey uniforms, surrounded by deceitful military propaganda and aggrandizing themselves as peacekeepers. Bunch of paramilitary fools playing dress up.

They must have noticed Savanna staring. One of the ponies, a mare, gestured with her levitated firearm down the street. "Get lost, kid," she ordered. "What are you staring at?"

That was the final straw.

Savanna turned, staring down her aggressor. Her eyes narrowed, her stance widening in defiance. The CED mare was taller and more muscular than Savanna, and even if she weren't holding a weapon, she could probably still kill Savanna without much effort. To make matters worse, the mare had a partner, and, judging by his facial expression, he wasn't too keen on Savanna's nasty expression either—but her blood was boiling, and there was no turning back by that point.

"How can you be so..." Savanna faltered, struggling to choose an appropriate word. "...delusional? Can't you see you're the problem around here, tearing stuff down and causing chaos wherever you go? All you're doing is making the lives of ponies miserable!" Savanna lunged forward and pointed aggressively with her hoof. "Your sense of grandiosity makes me sick!" Her western accent was less pronounced as the volume and intensity of her voice grew.

"Back the hell up!" The mare lifted her levitated firearm, aiming the barrel down directly toward Savanna. "And watch your damn mouth! Who do you think you're talking to‽"

Savanna took a step back, lowering her hoof to the ground. Her heart was pounding ferociously from the conflict, and her legs were quivering under her, threatening to give way. Seeing that the CED were stubborn and not acknowledging what she was saying, she sighed, looking away for a moment. "You orphaned mah friend."

Seeing that Savanna had taken a step back and was, seemingly, re-evaluating the situation, the mare snorted, lowering her weapon slightly. "What?"

"Ah said you orphaned mah friend! You bastards!" She pointed accusingly with a hoof. "And y'all are gonna get what's comin' for ya. One way or another."

Before either pony could respond, Savanna took a step backwards, giving them a final look of distaste. She turned, marching away down the street. Citizens were staring at her, but Savanna ignored the glares and confused looks she received.

"Yeah, that's right! Walk, kid! Keep going!" Savanna heard the voice of the CED mare shouting behind her. Ignoring it, Savanna kept moving forward.

Savanna turned another corner around a building, then stopped to rest, leaning against a wooden pole supporting an overhanging cantilever. Venting to the CED officer had been appeasing, but it wasn't a wise decision. Savanna had drawn attention to herself.

Savanna backed up and took a seat on a wooden bench below the cantilever, releasing a sigh as she rested. To her left sat a pegasus stallion, comfortably slumped onto the bench and casually smoking a cigarette. "Hey," he greeted, looking over.

"Hi," Savanna responded, looking over for a moment to meet his gaze. She broke eye contact and slumped back onto the bench, relaxing all her weight and gazing listlessly up at the roof of the cantilever.

"You new in town, kid?"

"Ah'm... yeah. Ah'm not from around 'ere."

"Maybe not the best idea to go making enemies with the CED."

"They had it coming."

The stallion chuckled, nodding his head. "You're damn right about that."

Savanna looked over, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Can you... help me find somepony?" Recalling the code phrase Maverick had shared with her, Savanna added it quietly after asking the question, lowering the volume of her voice by a measure or two. "The crows are mourning."

The pegasus's eyes widened in surprise. He lifted a wing up to his muzzle and grasped his cigarette between some feathers, drawing it away from his face as he puffed a cloud of smoke. Copying her, he lowered the volume of his voice a little. "You don't strike me as one of his message runners, kid, but, yeah, I think I can help you. Who are you looking for?"

"A stallion named 'Cloverleaf.' Short, mint-colored mane. Green coat."

Confident, the pegasus nodded, motioning with his free wing to a building across the street. "I'm familiar. He meets ponies in there, usually. Look in the back. Oh, and he likes window seats."

"Thanks." Savanna stood up from the bench and began crossing the street, heading in the direction she had been advised.

The building was undoubtedly a restaurant, but none Savanna had ever visited before. Her village had a small, modest eatery, but nothing to the scale Savanna was witnessing before her at that moment. There were countless tall windows skirting the exterior of the building, with flowerpots beneath growing colorful blossoms. Even the landscape surrounding the building was fancy. A trimmed, flowering hedge bush separated the restaurant from the sidewalk. Two twin archways in the hedge bush signified where customers should walk to reach the entrance of the building.

Savanna stepped through one of the archways in the hedge and trotted up three concrete steps, approaching the restaurant's glass entrance doors. She placed a hoof on the metal bar handle and pushed the door inward, stepping inside.

A rush of comforting, hot air blew over Savanna as soon as she entered. Relieved, she stood still for a moment, breathing in the smells of cooking food as she examined her surroundings.

Everything was bursting with color, especially the décor. The floor was polished and hard, white and black tiling that made Savanna's hooves create exaggerated clopping with each step. Booths near the windows were cherry-red and white. Red, swiveling barstools surrounding a yellow-countered bar in the center of the room had inward-curving legs made of stainless steel. A massive menu dominated most of the wall behind the bar, filled with vibrant, cartoon pictures of food and drink and prices written in cursive, bubbly text.

The place was bustling with activity and buzzing with background chatter. Ponies sat together at booths, tables or barstools, chatting. Some solo ponies were reading newspapers or smoking. Savanna passed her eyes over the crowd, failing to spot anypony who resembled Cloverleaf's description.

Savanna casually glanced over the menu, her stomach rumbling as the colorful cartoon depictions of food caught her eye, but what really captured her attention were the milkshakes near the bottom right of the wide menu. She had a job to do and really couldn't afford to stop and grab a bite to eat, but she had walked all the way to Queensland from Juniper and was feeling peckish.

Savanna hopped up onto a barstool, shifting her weight to cause the barstool to swivel. She spun to face the bar, the barstool below her giving a subtle squeak as it rotated. As she waited for the waitress to notice her, Savanna casually tapped her hooves against the bar to the beat of some cheerful, upbeat pop music playing from some hidden speakers.

The vibe of the restaurant was something Savanna had never experienced before. The glaring industrial lights and bright colors overwhelmed her senses at first, like she was on a bad sugar crash. It wasn't a terrible sensation, though—in fact, Savanna was enjoying herself! She could feel she was involuntarily smiling.

When the waitress noticed Savanna was waiting, she glided over, light and quick on her hooves. "Hi, hon'!" The mare greeted, wearing a small, professional smile that was practically part of the uniform. Long mane tied back in a bun, she sported a short black-and-white spotted dress with a yellow apron. She floated a levitated pen and notepad over, preparing to write. "What can I get you today?"

"Milkshake, please!" Savanna requested, motioning with a hoof to the menu behind the counter.

"Sure thing, hon'! What flavor would you like?" Currently not using her pen, the mare spun it with her levitation magic, during a little trick.

Savanna considered this for a moment, pursing her lips in thought. "Strawberry!"

The mare quickly scrawled Savanna's request onto her notepad, looking back up. "Anything else?"

"Nope!"

"Alright! We'll have your milkshake in a jiffy!" Quick as a flash, the mare turned and began traveling down the bar, pointing with her pen as she addressed ponies sitting on stools, confirming their orders before disappearing into the kitchen.

The song on the radio changed. The focused song was a slow one, this time. Guitars and drums played a melancholic melody, one that methodically traveled up and down in pitch, like ocean waves lapping against a sandy shore. Relaxed, Savanna tapped her hooves against the counter gently, humming along.

When the waitress returned and began serving food and drinks to other customers at the bar, Savanna waited patiently, looking over. She saw alcohol and appetizing food being served that made her stomach growl enviously—but she had an important task to complete, and she was already pushing her luck by ordering a milkshake.

The waitress glided over to where Savanna was sitting, floating a levitated glass in front of Savanna. It was filled with pink, delicious-looking strawberry milkshake and whipped cream, but the glass itself was fancy and caught Savanna's eye. The glass had "petals". It was shaped to resemble a blooming flower. A paper straw was sticking out of the top.

"Here you are!"

"Thank you!" Savanna responded, smiling politely. Afterwards, she returned her attention to the sugary drink and its fancy receptacle. She reached and nudged the glass closer to herself with a hoof, then leaned forward and took a sip of the delectable drink. Immediately, she was overwhelmed by the taste. Fruity, creamy, and sugary! It would easily supply her with enough temporary energy to survive the rest of the day.

The song playing on the radio changed. While the tune had been evidence enough, the sappy lyrics confirmed it was a chipper pop love song. Cheerful, Savanna sipped her milkshake and bobbed her head gently to the tune.

"You're my baby, you're my lady, you're my lover, you're my honeybunch,
I knew it since day one with you—I got a hunch,
Just one kiss from you, you'll have me stunned,
And I'm never never never never never gonna leave you again!"

Feeling satisfied after filling herself with strawberry milkshake, Savanna opened her satchel and withdrew some of the money given to her by Maverick, paying for her sweet treat. She left the cash on the counter next to the empty milkshake glass and hopped down from the barstool, adjusting her satchel's strap with a quick shrug.

Back to business. Savanna couldn't sit on that barstool listening to relaxing music all day.

If anything, it had been a nice change of pace.

There were plenty of ponies sitting in the rear of the restaurant, but nopony who looked like Cloverleaf. Getting desperate, Savanna considered asking some of the patrons if they had seen him in the past half hour.

She turned a corner, brushing against a tall potted plant. There, in the very back of the restaurant, sitting at a booth near a window and reading a newspaper, was a green-coated stallion with a mint-colored mane. Breathing a sigh of relief, Savanna trotted toward his booth, closing the distance, and sat in the seat opposite his.

The stallion carefully folded and set down his newspaper, eyeing Savanna suspiciously. "Hello," he greeted, not breaking eye contact.

"Hi," Savanna responded, nodding in greeting. "Ah've been lookin' for you..."

Cloverleaf raised an eyebrow, staying silent.

"The crows are mourning. He wants to know why you haven't contacted him recently."

The stallion's eyes widened as he realized Savanna's intentions. "Come with me. We can talk in private." He motioned subtly with his head to a rear exit. Taking a quick look around to see if anypony was watching them, and discovering that, in fact, nopony was, the stallion hopped down from the booth and trotted to the emergency exit, slipping through to outside. Savanna quickly followed, not wanting to be seen by anypony as she acted suspiciously.

The exit led to a dark alleyway. The sun was setting, not that it had provided much light to begin with in the small crevice that was the alley Savanna now found herself in.

Savanna turned to Cloverleaf and opened her mouth to speak, but the words got caught up in her throat when the stallion was suddenly enveloped in a small tornado of swirling, green fire. Savanna blinked, temporarily blinded by the light, and released a gasp of shock when she finally laid eyes on the creature that stood before her.

Cloverleaf wasn't a pony at all. His shiny, black exoskeleton reflected the dying twilight. His radiant, arctic-blue eyes were squinted in a constant frown. He spread his tattered, gossamer-thin blue wings, stretching them. "I haven't been able to—" He cut himself off, realizing that Savanna was backpedaling. And, indeed, Savanna was backing up quickly, her eyes wide with fear. It was a changeling—an unreformed changeling!

"W - wait!" His eyes widened, realizing that Savanna was terrified by his appearance. He held out one of his forelegs that were all riddled with holes. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

Savanna kept backing up until she hit a concrete wall. Backed into a corner, with nowhere else to go, she was forced to speak. "B - but, you're a—"

"Changeling, I know." He nodded, assuming his normal, stoic expression. "I see Maverick neglected to inform you of my true identity..." The stallion had a strange way of speaking. He spoke slowly and methodically, using complicated words. His eye contact was intense and almost unbearable. Savanna broke eye contact several times, uncomfortable.

She silently nodded. She gulped, intimidated. She still didn't entirely trust him.

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I suppose I'm, also, feeling anxious. I'm not yet accustomed to living near ponies this closely."

"Why, then? Why are you here, and why do ya work for Maverick?" Savanna wondered aloud, frowning.

"I'm a changeling envoy. The Queen sent me to discuss diplomatic relations between changelings and you ponies. She believes we changelings have an opportunity to make peace with ponykind and guarantee our survival in the future by assisting Maverick and the revolutionaries in their quest to overthrow Valor. Valor, he..." The changeling grimaced, breaking eye contact for the first time as he looked away momentarily. "...abuses us changelings terribly and disrespects our needs as a species. The Queen doesn't want to go to war—she's wise. She understands we have no hope of winning. So, having no alternatives, the Queen sent me as an emissary. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend', as the saying goes."

Savanna digested this information slowly, gradually allowing the tension in her body to fade. Indeed, if the changeling standing before her had wanted to drain all of the love and emotion from her body, he would have done so already.

"You aren't going to... hurt me?"

"No," he affirmed.

Savanna stepped forward, holding out a hoof. The changeling slowly reached forward, taking her hoof in his own, and they shook.

"Friends, then," Savanna nodded. "Ya said it yourself."

"No, not friends—allies. The Queen doesn't want indoctrination. She wants an end to hostilities." The changeling shook his head.

"How can you expect to cooperate with ponies if you aren't friends with them?"

The changeling hesitated. He paused for a moment as he stalled for time and thought of an appropriate response. "Friendship is... ridiculous," he hissed. "You ponies are ridiculous. Individuality hinders your efficiency as living beings. We changelings far outnumber you in population. Or... we used to." He looked away, his ears falling downwards sadly.

"What happened?"

"Queen Platinum and many drone guards were... tragically killed in battle by Valor's forces." The changeling released a sad sigh, recalling what had transpired. "She was a glorious queen... Queen Silver now leads us, and she will allow changelings to recover in an era of peace, assuming that the revolutionaries succeed in their goal to overthrow Valor."

"Ah'm sorry to hear that happened."

"As was I, when I was a hatchling." He sighed sadly.

Savanna bowed her head in respect, sympathizing with the changeling. Showing respect for unreformed changelings was something she never thought she would ever do in her life. Changelings in Equestria had long since reformed and learned to share love instead of stealing it. Their unreformed selves were terrifying—terrifying, yet pitiable. Savanna understood changelings were merely misguided, ignorant individuals brainwashed into believing that totalitarian rulers greedily retaining all the power for themselves was acceptable.

A parallel could easily be drawn between unreformed changelings and Emperian ponies who supported Valor, their dictator. The thought made Savanna feel depressed. She tried distracting herself by asking some questions of the changeling standing before her.

"What's your name?"

"Chorilax. And you?"

"Savanna. Dry Savanna."

"Well met, Savanna." The changeling nodded silently in greeting. Savanna returned the nod politely.

"Why haven't ya contacted Maverick recently?"

"I'm unable to. I was informed the CED disabled all phones, and nopony is allowed in or out of town without identification—be grateful they didn't apprehend you when you first arrived."

"Nopony's allowed in or out?" Savanna blinked, realizing she had gotten very lucky when entering Queensland for the first time. If CED officers had been guarding the bridge, they must have temporarily left to do something the moment she crossed.

"They're hunting for rebels, and they want all of them dead." Chorilax affirmed flatly. "'Treason of the highest degree', they say. Maverick insists this... squabble will be beneficial for everypony in the future. He did say every pony, as well."

"Do you trust Maverick to keep his word?"

"Regarding whether he and the revolutionaries, after seizing the throne from Valor and establishing a period of reconstruction, will accept our Queen's offer of peace? Maybe. I don't suspect he's abusing us changelings and our ease of hostilities for his own gain, if you're suggesting that."

"Neither do ah. Still, ah'm wor—" Savanna hesitated, cutting herself off.

Chorilax raised an eyebrow, eying her knowingly. "...Worried? You're concerned for us?"

Savanna nodded, silent.

The changeling smirked, amused. "You're a fool. Offering sympathy where its undeserved will get you nowhere. Still, I admit it's challenging adjusting in response to the temporary peace. All civilians aren't aware that we changelings have agreed to act peacefully. I stay disguised often. Even the revolutionaries—I'm aware they know we changelings mean them no harm, and I'm aware they mean us no harm, yet... I hesitate to act normally when around them."

"You're usin' a lotta words there, buddy, but ah think you mean to say that you ain't used to bein' friendly toward ponies."

"I—" Chorilax tried saying something, but Savanna cut him off, taking a step forward and pointing with her hoof.

"You think the foreign concept of harmony is some great evil that dares to threaten your enclosed mindset—but it isn't. Ponies are happy under it! Are you happy? Day to day, week by week, year by year—how do you feel?"

Frustrated, the changeling growled, baring his pointed fangs. Intimidated, Savanna took a step back again, pressing against the concrete wall of the restaurant behind her. He looked like he wanted to respond with an aggressive retort, but he held his tongue, frowning. "Sometimes... I feel... dissatisfied, but—"

Savanna immediately caught on, using his own words against him. "Well?"

Chorilax narrowed his eyes. The arctic-blue light irradiating from his eyes grew a little dimmer. "You foolish ponies and your desires, your individuality—it hinders your efficiency. The mentality of one changeling is irrelevant when considering the wellbeing of the Queen and all changelings. We changelings have duties. I wouldn't expect an interloper such as yourself to comprehend that."

"There can be more to life than just lifelessly servicing your superior," Savanna quipped. She recognized the changeling was at his tipping point, but managed to get one more sentence in.

Chorilax sighed, frustrated. "I didn't ask for your philosophies on life. You're not some omniscient being. Walk a mile in my hoofprints and understand changelingkind before speaking."

Savanna, realizing his suggestion had been rhetorical, stayed silent.

He nodded. "Okay. So, if you need a place to rest for the night, I recommend you follow me. I know where the revolutionaries are secretly taking refuge in this town."

Chorilax enveloped himself in a mini tornado of green fire and transformed into his disguised pony self. He turned, walking forward and intent on stepping out of the alley. Savanna adjusted her satchel with a shrug of her shoulders and trotted forward, walking beside him.

"Where—"

"You'll give us away! Quiet," Cloverleaf hissed, his tone sharp. Savanna obeyed, remaining silent. She walked with the disguised changeling for a long while, traveling deeper and deeper into town. So far, nopony found her or her companion suspicious—even the eyes of the vigilant CED officers guarding the streets didn't track them for long.

Walking through the streets of Queensland alone had been intimidating enough, but knowing that Savanna was allowing herself to be escorted by a disguised changeling filled her with even more dread. The things the CED would do to her if they became aware that she was allied with the rebels and her companion wasn't even a pony...

A cold breeze blew, fluttering the paper of hanging propaganda posters. Savanna shivered in her light rain poncho, chilled. Cloverleaf, as a cold-blooded creature, shivered intensely beside her.

After they had crossed a couple blocks together, Cloverleaf turned, walking down an alleyway. He rapped one of his hooves against a door at the very end of the passage, then set his hoof down onto the ground again, waiting. Savanna stood behind him, waiting impatiently. They weren't invisible inside the alleyway, and anypony could glance inside and spot them.

"Chorilax?" A mare opened the door, peeking out.

"The very same." The disguised changeling motioned with a hoof over his shoulder, pointing at Savanna. "And I've brought a friend with me, you could say."

"That makes three this week," the mare mused, looking away for a moment as she pondered. "I don't know if we'll have enough supplies to feed everyone."

"Let's talk inside! Ponies might be listening in on this," Cloverleaf urged, motioning with a hoof for the mare to step aside. Silently, she nodded, backing away to give Savanna and her companion room to enter.

Cloverleaf entered first, and Savanna followed, giving a final glance to the alleyway entrance to assure nopony was spying on them.

The basement was surprisingly warm. The pleasant warmth was a welcome improvement compared to the chilly weather outside. Adjusting to the rapid change in temperature, Savanna gently shivered, her muscles relaxing.

Cloverleaf took a few stairs down and stepped onto the basement floor, immediately being assaulted with hugs around his forelegs by two foals. He chuckled, sitting back on his haunches and giving the closest one a pat on the head. "Hello, little ponies." Green fire formed a miniature tornado around Chorilax as he transformed into his natural changeling self. Immediately, the curious foals started circling him and examining his body. One played with one of his tattered wings, while another messed with the holes in his forelegs, sticking a pencil through until it pointed out the other side.

Savanna and the middle-aged mare who had answered Chorilax's knocking silently observed the foals playing. While it was indeed mesmerizing to see such raw, unadulterated curiosity and happiness, Savanna was shocked to discover that foals were being forced to get wrapped up in this entire mess. They should be in school, not forced to live in a basement all day, hiding from everypony.

"They remind me of hatchlings. So curious and... excited," Chorilax commented, staying perfectly still as he let the foals play with him.

"Ginger, Roly Poly, come on, dears! Give the changeling some space."

Obediently, the foals bounded towards their mother, nuzzling up against her legs.

No longer surrounded by two foals holding him down, Chorilax chuckled, standing up and stretching his transparent wings.

Now that the spectacle was over and Savanna's attention was no longer captured, she swept her glance across the room, looking around. The small room she found herself in was lit by lamplight. There were ponies crowded everywhere, congregating against the solid concrete walls of the basement. Some chatted amongst themselves quietly or occupied themselves in other ways. Some smoked cigarettes, and others read books or newspapers close to lamps resting on tables. There were even a few changelings, though they all abstained from smoking. They all looked surprisingly normal, but Savanna recognized they were revolutionaries. Some guns were lying on tables, and others were leaning against walls. They were all mostly young adults. A few, however, were middle-aged, like the pony mare who had answered the door.

"Who's in charge, here?" Savanna asked aloud, looking around. She received many looks from all the creatures, but no one seemed eager to respond. Judging by their facial expressions, they looked tired and miserable.

"I am," Chorilax responded, nodding.

The changeling turned, sweeping his eyes across the crowd of ponies. Clearly, he didn't spot who he was looking for. Frustrated, he frowned, raising his voice to address everyone in the room. "Have any of you seen Jovial Day?"

One stallion responded with a quick motion with a hoof, pointing to a door that lead deeper into the basement. When Chorilax opened it and went trotting through, Savanna hesitated before eventually deciding to follow him. She was unsure what to do at that point—would it be appropriate for her to introduce herself to everyone, or should she keep following Chorilax around?

The room that Savanna entered was a large bedroom. It was significantly warmer than the entrance to the basement. There were bedrolls and nests of blankets everywhere for ponies to sleep in. The room was crowded with junk and personal belongings, though space was reserved in the center of the room so ponies could navigate safely without risk of tripping on anything.

Several ponies were lined up near a capacious wood stove at the rear of the room. Some of their extremities were bandaged liberally, and their facial expressions confirmed they were in varying degrees of pain.

A unicorn mare was flittering from bed to bed, tending to the wounded ponies, making the unoccupied beds, changing sheets and fluffing pillows. Undoubtedly, she was Jovial Day; her physical appearance gave away her identity. The mare's bright, sterile white coat practically glinted light. Her long and flowing, lemon-colored mane was as happy as sunshine. A red cross surrounded by hearts was printed on her flank—the standard symbol for nurses.

"Jovi," he spoke, approaching the young mare from behind. "This pony here, Savanna, she needs a bed for at least tonight. And..." He trailed off, glancing over at Savanna. "Do you want food, as well?"

Savanna considered the offer. After hours of hiking from Juniper to Queensland, she had burned through the calories in the soup she had eaten earlier in the day. The strawberry milkshake—though delicious—had only given her a temporary energy boost. "Maybe," she responded.

Jovial turned, locking her pumpkin-orange eyes onto the changeling as she approached. "Chorilax! Hi," she greeted, smiling a pleasant smile.

"Hello, Jovi," The changeling responded, smiling a genuine smile when he laid his eyes on the mare.

"And you're Savanna, are you?" Jovial turned her head, looking at Savanna and flashing her charismatic smile. "Nice to meet you! There's available space back there, whenever you're ready to settle down tonight." She pointed with a hoof, showing Savanna.

"Thank you, miss," Savanna responded politely, shrugging to adjust the strap of her satchel.

"Not a problem!" Jovial returned her attention to Chorilax. "Chorilax, we need to talk..."

"Already?" The changeling asked, chuckling.

"Yes, while we still have time tonight. Come on!" Jovial spoke as she faced Chorilax and retreated backwards in the direction of another closed door that led ever deeper into the basement. She opened it with some levitation magic, and the two stepped through, disappearing inside and closing the door behind themselves.

Savanna blinked, wondering what she had just witnessed, but shrugged, deciding not to devote too much time thinking about it. It wasn't her business to find out whatever those two were doing.

She trotted to the space she had been assigned, setting her satchel and all of her belongings down onto the ground. Now that she was in a safe space and didn't have to worry about appearing suspicious, she sat down on the floor and drew her revolver from her satchel. She set it onto the ground, pointing it safely at the concrete wall.

Savanna sat quietly for a long while, ruminating. She rubbed a hoof against the concrete floor absently, listening to the muffled din of the large group of ponies and changelings chatting amongst themselves in the other room. She could hear Chorilax's and Jovial's distinct voices through the wall, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Considering she had free time before she should sleep, she decided to spend the time productively and journal for a while. Though, so much had happened since she had last journaled that she wasn't sure where to even start.

Savanna reached into her satchel and withdrew a pen and her journal, brushing a hoof against the front cover. She flipped through the pages, seeing all she had drawn and written so far, and then reached a blank one. She set the journal onto the floor and raised her pen, beginning to sketch. She drew the pair of CED transport trucks surrounded by CED officers parked on a road in the surrounding field and forest. She doodled copies of the military propaganda she was seeing everywhere, then drew a detailed sketched of the large house Maverick and his rebels were hiding out in at Juniper.

Savanna turned the page, committed to drawing a vivid sketch of Amethyst Dust's face. When she was finished, she smiling, examining it. It looked perfect.

Savanna turned the page again and began writing, detailing everything that had happened to her recently.

The fact I am still alive shocks me. I have fought tooth and nail to travel this far, meeting many new ponies and making just as many enemies. The CED are constantly harassing and trying to stop me—they even tried to kill me and Rose, but we managed to escape after an intense skirmish.

Despite recent opposition, I traveled to Juniper with Rose in one piece. I was introduced to Maverick—who seems to be the stallion assuming command of all the rebels—and Amethyst Dust, a young filly like me who was tragically caught up in this whole mess. She's a pacifist like I am. I wish our situations were different and we could be friends. She insists she wants to stay behind and wait to see her family again. In the moment, I didn't have the heart to tell her I thought that was a fruitless idea. The CED don't seem like the merciful type. If her parents crossed them, then all hope is probably lost. I sympathize with her terribly.

Before I left, Maverick gave me some money and requested I find a pony in Queensland and discover why he hasn't communicated with Maverick in a while. As it turned out, Cloverleaf was a changeling. He called himself a "changeling envoy" and assured that their queen wanted to establish a temporary truce with the rebels now that Valor is in charge and terrorizing everypony. His brutal policies have forced changelings and ponies together—in a way, that's a good thing. Fate is pulling them together. Chorilax is nice enough, if a bit curt. If all unreformed changelings are this polite and reasonable, I don't know why they should be feared in the first place. Maybe my judgement is skewed because I have only met one changeling.

Savanna turned the page and began writing at the top of the blank paper.

I said my goodbyes to Rose before I departed from Juniper. I don't think I will ever understand what, exactly, is going on in that mind of hers, but she's stubborn like somepony dared her to drive her head through a brick wall and she's about to do it against all odds. She refused to listen to reason.

I sympathize with her greatly. I wish there were something I could have done to help her find solace in these troubled times. I believe I did all I could to help her. I think that's the excuse I'm going to stick with from now on—I tried my very best.

Savanna turned the page for the final time.

Before I left, I gave Amethyst some pictures of me, my friends and my family. She said she wants to light some candles for our pictures on Souls Day, a holiday which seems to parallel Remembrance Day. It seems like a kind enough gesture.

Below the short paragraph, Savanna drew a shrine lit with candles typical for Remembrance Day, if a very small one. She knew that by the end of her adventures, on Remembrance Day, she would light dozens of candles for all the victims ensnared in this terrible conflict.

Reminded of her current reality, Savanna set her pen down and sunk down onto the bed of wrapped blankets on the floor. Feeling depressed, she sighed, lowering her head. She knew it would be impossible for her to keep living the way she was living. The constant, daily reminders that she was small, useless and insignificant in the grand scheme of things were driving her crazy. The only thing keeping her moving forward was the vain hope that she would eventually get home again.

Savanna sat quietly, eyes closed as she ruminated. Her ears perked up, rotating in the direction of the muffled chatter of creatures in the other room as she listened.

"Celestia," Savanna swore quietly, shaking her head. She looked down at her meager journal entry, sighing again. It was tiny, and didn't nearly begin to describe how she felt. She couldn't find the words, though. Frustrated, she threw her pen and journal into her satchel and closed the flap, then laid down on the bed of blankets. She curled up into a small ball and prepared to sleep, miserable.

"Sleeping already, hon'?"

Savanna opened one eye, looking over at Jovial. "Ah'm just really tired," she responded. It wasn't entirely untrue, but Savanna was also feeling sad and lonely at the same time and just wanted to be left alone to her own thoughts.

"You're not hungry?"

"Ah don't think ah could eat even if ah wanted to right now," Savanna admitted, frowning. The anxiety caused her to feel physically ill.

"If you change your mind, you can just ask, hon'. We also have money if you want to go out and buy food for yourself." Jovial gave Savanna one of her cheerful smiles, then trotted toward the rear of the room, approaching the wood stove. Respectfully, she didn't step over the wounded ponies, instead using levitation magic to open the stove's hatch from a distance and toss a couple logs in to keep the room as warm and comforting as possible.

Savanna watched her work, stupefied. "Do y'all... do all the work around here all by your lonesome?"

Jovial trotted over to Savanna, taking a seat on a nearby stool. "I don't do all of the work, but besides, somepony has to! And I'm a nurse—it's my job to help ponies."

"Don't you ever... get a break?"

"Rarely," Jovial admitted, her face drooping into a frown. The tired expression made Savanna feel even more sympathetic.

"I need to monitor the wounded constantly, and with all the time I spend napping to recover my energy, I don't have much to spare. Restoration magic can be difficult magic to cast, especially when you're tired, and especially when you're using it on living ponies. You don't want to botch a spell and potentially kill somepony."

"Is there nopony else here to help you?" Savanna was stunned—she had seen other unicorns when first descending into the basement. Did nopony else know restoration magic?

"Nopony who knows restoration magic, unfortunately," Jovial confirmed, nodding. "I haven't slept properly in..." She paused, considering. "...three days, now."

"Ah'm sorry to hear that. Ah wish ah could help somehow." Savanna meant it. Temporarily distracted from her woes by sympathy, she wished there was some way she could help the wounded ponies who were in need.

"You don't owe me or Chorilax anything, Savanna. Well, actually, he needs somepony to go with him on a mission, but... I've already said too much. He wants to divulge his own plans himself to everypony early tomorrow morning. He's the changeling leading us, after all!" Jovial paused. "Anyway, Savanna, if you do want to help, you can talk to Lucky Stars."

"Who?"

"Lucky Stars! But everypony calls him 'Hero'. The burgundy-coated stallion in the front there. Go ask him why we call him that."

The stallion in question had been staring listlessly up at the ceiling, quietly contemplating. Hearing his nickname being spoken, he turned his head, gazing over. "Hey, kid," he greeted.

Savanna took a few steps forward, sitting back on her haunches on the concrete floor in front of his bed of blankets. Both of his forelegs were bandaged tightly. He held them in what looked like an uncomfortable position. "Well, why do they call ya that?"

"I've been shot five times by CED and the military before now." Gingerly, the stallion lifted one of his injured forelegs. He winced.

"Ah'm sorry to hear that," Savanna spoke, genuine with her apology.

"It's no big deal. I start missing walking every time, though. This is the sixth time I've lived to tell the tale, due in no small part to Nurse Jovi, here."

"I'm a nurse, Lucky—it's my job to help ponies! I will always support you and everypony else."

"Don't think I forgot, Nurse—you personally carried me out of combat and to safety last month. You're the real hero."

Jovial smiled her pleasant smile. "You're going to make me blush."

The stallion chuckled, leaning back as he assumed his resting position, gazing up at the ceiling once again. "When will you get to me with your magic, Nurse? I'm itching to start walking again. I want to get out of this room."

"Tomorrow morning," Jovial assured him. "Everypony needs to be awake and at full strength tomorrow."

"Why?" Savanna wondered aloud, motioning with her hoof.

"Chorilax will explain," Jovial assured her, nodding.

Savanna frowned, but held her tongue, suppressing her curiosity.

"You'd best get some rest, Savanna," Jovial suggested, ushering Savanna with a waved hoof to her assigned bed. "Like I mentioned, everypony needs to be at full strength tomorrow. If you get called to serve with Chorilax on whatever mission he's planning, you have to follow through."

"Me? But.. why? Ah just arrived," Savanna protested, frowning. What did she mean by "mission" ? Whatever Chorilax was planning, Savanna wanted nothing to do with it.

"That's the rule, Savanna. He's our leader, and he's a very capable one—he made the rules and we follow them. It's fair." Jovial shrugged. "Now go get some sleep."

Unable to think of a way to argue, Savanna gave up, turning and stepping back to her bed. She closed her journal and slipped it into her satchel, then closed the flap and shoved it aside. She laid down on her bed of soft blankets, stretching and then curling into a little, comfortable ball. For once, she was going to enjoy getting a real night's sleep.